


A Little Dream Without a Name

by lusilly



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya Needs a Hug, Alucard's plot in season 3 was a dream, Feelings Realization, Multi, OT3, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24157588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lusilly/pseuds/lusilly
Summary: In which Alucard wakes from a bad dream (well, it was a nice dream, and then a wet dream, and THEN it was a bad dream), Realizes Things, and hears from Sypha and Trevor for the first time in a while.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Comments: 8
Kudos: 77





	A Little Dream Without a Name

Alucard jolted awake. The bed beneath him was drenched with sweat and at least one other unpleasant bodily fluid, but it wasn’t blood, and there were no bodies on his floor. For a long moment he simply laid there, the vividness of the dream still replaying in his head, cresting pleasure, heart-wrenching betrayal.

Please. His psyche earned no points for creativity, as a dashing young couple who came to learn how to slay monsters wasn’t particularly subtle. He rolled out of bed, going to the balcony beyond his room. A cool breeze swept in from the coast, cooling his warm skin, rustling his nightshirt.

He missed them, he thought, watching the sun dawning over the horizon. He supposed it was that simple. He missed them and was afraid of what that meant, because the last creature Alucard killed was too someone he loved. When he drove that stake into his father’s heart, he had seen in the relief in his father’s eyes, the softening, the weary heart returning to rest.

It was sad, to be alone here in this big castle next to a dead home. But there hadn’t been any other option. _Someone_ had to stay in the castle, and it’s not as if Sypha and Trevor needed any help. The Big Bad had been battled and beaten. Other monsters needed killing. So they were on their merry way.

Alucard bathed in the river, because he could not stand to be in the darkness of that castle any fucking longer. The water came from the mountains, so it was cold, but the day outside was beautifully warm. Methodically he washed himself, then crouched low in the water up to his nose, his long golden hair floating with the current. _Sumi and Taka_. What terrible names. And they had been far too kind, anyhow. Alucard would’ve gotten bored with Sypha and Trevor after the first week had they been as eager to please as the best his dreams could come up with.

Not that said dream had been particularly unwelcome, at least not at first. It was an unfamiliar feeling, that low burn in his belly, like a tug behind his navel. He knew he’d liked Sypha and Trevor very much, as much as he’d ever liked anyone. He hadn’t actually particularly been aware of how appealing the idea of getting fucked by them was. So, for that much, he had to hand it to his unconscious mind.

Or maybe he was just lonely and horny. Who the fuck knew. Alucard blew bubbles in the water, watching them dissipate. In his dream, the man had been smaller than Trevor. Not as broad around the shoulders, not as barrel-chested or tree trunk-legged. The woman had been bigger than Sypha, at least Alucard thought so, not that he’d ever had particular occasion to discover what was beneath her Speaker’s robes. He sighed, leaning back in the water, letting it rush over his face. What a dream to have. Now the next few weeks or months or years or however long it would take Sypha and Trevor to return - if they ever returned at all - he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else. God damn.

When he emerged from the water, there was a bird sitting on the riverbank.

Alucard looked at it. It looked back at him. He glanced around, as if expecting to find - he didn’t know what, a fucking bird trainer? - and then looked back at the bird. It was a common crow, with a strap of leather tied around its little body. It hopped towards the river, then it blinked, then it squawked meaningfully at Alucard.

“Hello,” he said to it, because he didn’t know what the fuck else to do. He paused, then added, “I’m talking to a bird,” as if speaking it aloud would somehow make it more tenable.

It didn’t work, but the crow squawked again, this time more urgently. Feeling strangely indecent, he stepped out of the water and knelt down beside the crow, gently untying the leather strap on its back.

Into his hand fell a small scroll, tightly wound, and an opalescent rock the color of milk. It fit neatly into the palm of his hand, no larger than a coin.

The crow hopped towards the water, and lowered its beak to drink. Alucard inspected the rock, then unfurled the scroll. 

_Alucard,_

_Suppose if you’re reading this it means you haven’t been ambushed by superstitious villagers or hurled yourself off the highest tower of the castle. Unless this is being read by the superstitious villagers, in which case, you better fucking stock up on pitchforks, because we’re coming for you._

_Took forever to find a way to contact you. Sypha found the stones. She says they can’t send messages, but they’re magic. We have the other one. Rub the center of your stone and ours will glow and grow warm. I think it sounds useful as an alert in case you’re ever in trouble and need us to bail you out, but Sypha pointed out we’re far enough away that that point might be moot. Just rub it and we’ll know._

_Found the raven at a market in Bohemia, merchant said it could find the Belmont estate. Damn well hope it does, or else Sypha’s wasted a perfectly good tool._

The letter was not signed, but it didn’t need to be. Alucard read it twice over, then again, searching each juvenile, chickenscratch letter for any hint of unreality, that this might be a fake, that he might still be dreaming.

The bird squawked. Blinking away the stinging feeling in his eyes, Alucard muttered, “It’s a fucking crow, Trevor.”

The stone in the palm of his hand was cool to the touch. He inspected it for another moment, and then tentatively, with his forefinger, he rubbed the surface.

Nothing happened. He stared down at it for nearly a minute, and still, nothing. His heart breaking ever so slightly, he sighed and got to his feet.

And then, miraculously - his hand grew warm, and when he once more looked down at it, it glowed with a gentle, sparkling blue light. 

He burst into tears on the fucking spot.


End file.
